Agent Down
by PicturesOfLily47
Summary: Sydney is the victim of a not-so-random act of violence. Jack and Vaughn work out their differences and bond through their love and worry for her. Takes place during Season 2. Some swearing, so rated T to be safe!
1. News

_**Disclaimer: Sadly, I am NOT the genius behind ALIAS.**_

**Chapter One – 2002**

**CIA FIELD OFFICE, LOS ANGELES – 10:00 A.M.**

"Hey, Jack," Michael Vaughn called to Sydney's father. "You seen Sydney this morning?"

"You haven't seen her either?" asked Jack, now more worried than before.

As if on cue, the phone on Jack's desk started to ring.

"Sydney?" he asked, anticipating his daughter to answer and tell him that she just had the flu, and had to stay home.

"Hello, Mr. Bristow. This is Dr. Robertson, from the hospital. It's Sydney," said the doctor.

Jack kept his normal mask, but his eyes were filled with fear.

"At six this morning, we received a call from Sydney's neighbor that they had heard gunshots. We sent an ambulance, and she was unconscious when we arrived. When the paramedics got to the hospital, she went straight to the OR. We removed the bullet. She made it through surgery, and she's alive," said Dr, Robertson, sensing Jack's immediate reaction: _Did she make it? _"but just barely. I would have called you sooner, but… I was busy."

_Yes, busy trying to save my daughter, _Jack thought. He felt gratitude towards the doctor. "Where's the wound?" he asked, all business on the exterior.

Inside, he was crying, screaming – he was feeling every emotion possible.

"On her abdomen. The bullet just barely missed her right kidney. Her condition was stable as of one hour ago." Dr. Robertson took a breath. "We still don't know if she's going to make it."

Jack collapsed onto his desk chair and put a hand to his forehead. Vaughn, who hadn't heard much of the conversation, seemed to have had his worst fears confirmed by Jack's reaction.

"You should probably come down here. I'm sorry," said Dr. Robertson softly. "I really am."

With that, Jack hung up the phone and put his head down.

"Jack, what the _hell _is going on?" asked Vaughn, his face terrified.

Jack raised his head. Before, to Vaughn, Jack seemed like the kind of man who could watch a person die, even kill someone himself, and lose no sleep over it. But now, looking into Jack's worry-lined face, he could see more than his intimidating and fearless nature.

He was a father.

The father of the woman Vaughn loved.

_Okay, what's Plan B? 'Cause that's not going to happen._

_- Michael Vaughn_

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**Okay, so here's the first chapter to an epic ALIAS story! I worked most of my summer on this and I'm FINALLY putting it up! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! I want to know if all my hard work paid off! **

**P.S. Sorry for any techinical errors I may have made! I didn't do much research, except for watching the show!**


	2. Papa Bear

**Chapter Two**

Before entering his daughter's hospital room, Jack hesitated for a moment. He gathered up all his strength and went straight to Syd's side.

"Sydney, sweetheart," Jack said. "I love you. Don't go." Jack's vision blurred. The words were simple, but they were enough to make him cry for the first time in, what, ten years? Twenty, even? He didn't know, and at that moment, while he was watching his daughter – his _baby _– suffer, he didn't much care. Even with all the power he had, he couldn't stop the tears now.

And then, in the middle of _nothing_,Sydney's heart monitor flatlined. Jack stood back, his medical training forgotten. His mind went blank and he wiped away the tears cascading down his usually expressionless face.

A few doctors bustled in, and began to work over Sydney's lifeless body. Jack, who couldn't bear to watch his child exist like this, and who was struggling not to punch a hole in the wall – a _big_ hole – stepped out into the hallway and called Vaughn.

"Jack, thank God," Vaughn answered, relieved to finally have some news. "How is –"

"She flatlined," Jack interrupted. He heard a groan on the other end. "She's still alive."

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the hallway."

"Why aren't you in there?" Vaughn asked angrily. "She's your daughter!"

"Understand something," Jack said coldly, his old personality showing. "You cannot imagine the connection of a father with his child-"

"'Connection'? What 'connection'? You were barely even there when Sydney was a kid!"

"_Let me finish_. You can't imagine the connection of a father with his child until you have become a father, yourself. Seeing Sydney so… _lifeless,_" – Vaughn cringed – "watching her heart stop – watching the doctors working so hard to keep her alive – it made me _sick_. I couldn't watch her live like that, and be so… helpless. And if you can't see how I couldn't look at that, get your sorry ass down here and try." Jack slammed the phone shut, and went back into his daughter's room.

The doctors were gone now, and Sydney's heart beat was regular again. _Thank God,_ Jack thought, taking his place by her bedside again, squeezing her hand. "I will find out who did this to you, Sydney," he vowed, "if it's the last thing I do."

As soon as Vaughn heard the dial tone, he began to consider what it must feel like to be Jack.

After all, Syd was his only child; she must mean the world to him. The thing was, he loved her too – maybe not as much as Jack, but he loved her.

The whole time he was listening to Jack spiel to him, there was a part of him thinking, _He's right_; but there was also another part of him thinking, _He's being really selfish; you'd think he'd care about his daughter enough to at least stay in the _room_!_

He wasn't sure which one to listen to.

Sydney's dreams were filled with terror.

She was in a dark room, with concrete walls and a concrete floor. Apart from her, there was only one other thing in the area.

A curtain.

She lifted it up, but all she could see was more darkness.

At once, a light turned on and Vaughn appeared. He was sitting in a chair, staring ahead into the shadows.

"What's wrong with you?" Sydney asked, frantic. She shook him. "Vaughn!"

But Vaughn was silent.

As Sydney watched in horror, some people in black came and covered Vaughn up with a sheet. Blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth. He was dead.

As the people carried him away, a woman stepped out of the shadows, holding a gun. The light was hitting her shoulder length brunette hair and was making it gleam. "Who are you?" Sydney called into the darkness.

She pulled off the ski mask she was wearing to conceal her identity. Sydney was staring at herself.

Horrified, she stepped towards the clone. The other Sydney also walked forwards, moving exactly in sync.

The real Syd reached out her hand.

And it met the mirror standing in front of her.

_There's no white light. Not for people like you._

_- Jack Bristow_

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**And so ends another action-filled chapter! Once again, PLEASE review, because I LOVE feedback! THANK YOU!**

**P.S. The stuff at the end in Italic is quotes from the show, which _I DO NOT OWN_. That is the property of the Einstiens behind ALIAS.**


	3. Prisoner

**Chapter Three **

**THREE DAYS LATER**

Jack's phone rang. "Bristow," he answered wearily. He was surprised by the sound of Vaughn's voice.

"Jack," Vaughn began, "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time the other day… If there's anything I can do-"

"Thank you," Jack interrupted, "but the most you can do right now is come down here. Sydney…" Jack trailed off, lost for words. "Sydney will want to see you if - _when_ she wakes up." He corrected himself, scared at what he had said, that he didn't have more confidence in Sydney – especially considering how stubborn she was.

Vaughn ignored this. "Okay. I'm on my way. And Jack," he said, "she'll be fine."

Vaughn didn't know who he was trying to reassure more: Jack, or himself.

By this time, Sydney's mother had heard about what happened.

Irina Derevko, alias Laura Bristow, had recently turned herself in to the CIA. Though she was a prisoner with eighty-six counts of espionage against her, she was still Sydney's mother.

And that was all that mattered.

Irina still could not erase from her memory the moment three days ago when F.B.I. Assistant Director Kendall had come to her cell and informed her about Sydney.

"Irina, you know what's funny?" Kendall had said. "You came here, pretending to care for your daughter… and then a week later she gets shot."

Her heart skipped two beats at this. She could only stand there, horrified, incapable of speech.

"Jack's with her now," Kendall said, "and she's in critical, but stable, condition. What I want to know" he said, stepping closer to her cell, "is, how the hell did you get the order to your men?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Irina had said, looking Kendall straight in the eye. Stubborn. Like mother, like daughter.

"I don't believe you," Kendall said. "You should know something: as soon as I walk out those doors, I will use every available resource to find some evidence that you did this. Is that clear, Derevko?"

Irina could only stare as Kendall walked away.

_As usual, Jack, you're in danger of outsmarting yourself._

_- Arvin Sloane_

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**Okay, so this chapter was pathetically short, but whatever. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**


	4. Growing Up and Letting Go

**Chapter Four**

For the first time in three days, Jack Bristow slept.

In his dreams, he tried to remember everything about Sydney's childhood that he possibly could.

**July 31, 1974**

Jack arrived home early from work. "Laura!" he called.

No answer. "Laura, honey? Are you home?" He found his wife on the couch in the living room. She was drinking a huge glass of water. Her face was dreamy, like she was in a movie or something.

"Is everything all right?" Jack asked, putting a hand on Laura's shoulder. He was answered by his favorite smile.

"Yes," she said airily. "Everything is fine, _Daddy_."

Jack stared at Laura in shock. "W-what did you just call me?" He must have heard her wrong. _Daddy, daddy, daddy…_

"Jack, I'm pregnant," Laura said. "We're having a baby."

Jack was in total shock. He laughed nervously, and then kissed his wife like he had never kissed her before. _She's so… so amazing, _he thought.

His baby would be, too. Just as beautiful and intelligent as its mother.

**April 17, 1975 **

After three hours of excruciating labor, Laura gave birth to a baby daughter.

They named her Sydney Anne.

Laura was cradling the sleeping infant in her arms. A tear rolled down her cheek as she gazed at her baby. "She's so beautiful," Laura whispered, and kissed the newborn child on the forehead.

Jack took his daughter and held her close. She was so innocent, so small.

And she would be better than him.

He would make _sure_ of that.

**1980**

A scream filled the air, shattering the peacefulness surrounding the Bristow family on their camping retreat.

"Sydney!" Jack and Laura looked at each other, and a moment later they were sprinting towards their five-year-old daughter.

Sydney was lying on the ground at the foot of a tree, a broken branch beside her. She was still screaming, and she hadn't stopped for a break.

"Oh, sweetheart…" said Laura, wrapping Sydney in her arms.

"Owieowieowie!" Sydney sobbed, pointing to her leg, which was swollen and red.

Jack was examining it, and then, having had extensive medical training, made his conclusion. "Sydney, honey, your leg is broken," he said, looking into his daughter's eyes – _his eyes._ He turned to his wife. "Give her to me. Pack up the tent, and start towards the car. We're right in front."

Laura nodded, handing Sydney to her father. Sydney snuggled into Jack's chest, sniffling.

They had parked the car about two miles from their campsite – Jack and Laura had wanted to show Sydney the beauty of nature. "Come on, Laura," Jack had pleaded. "You sing to her all the time about trees and butterflies and flowers, but she's never actually _seen _them in the wild." _Yeah, good going, Jack, _he thought as he carried his daughter through the forest.

"Daddy," Sydney murmured.

"Yes?" Jack said.

"Hurts," she said, crying again.

"I know. We're going to take you to a place where they'll make you all better, okay?"

Sydney looked at her father's face. He was so strong and big – her own private Superman. She knew he would find a way to make her stop hurting. "O-okay," she agreed.

**1981**

Sydney peeked out from behind the wall. Jack was talking to a man in the doorway. Lights were flashing outside, and Sydney was scared.

"Excuse me," Jack said to the man, and walked over to his daughter. "Sydney," he said, kneeling down so he could look into his child's eyes. "Something's happened." He took a breath. "Your mother was in an accident. Her car skidded of the road and… she's gone." Jack was struggling to maintain composure now. Laura was not only his wife of ten years. She was the love of his life.

Sydney's expression was neutral. She hadn't said a word.

"Your mother…" Jack continued, "sh… she… she's dead." He paused, looking into his daughter's shell shocked face. She was so beautiful, just as Laura had said the day she was born.

"Sydney, sweetheart." Jack was actually fighting tears now, something he hadn't had to do in years. _Don't cry. Don't cry. Sydney needs a father right now, not… not…_he couldn't do it. He couldn't finish that thought; it made this nightmare all too real. The pain of losing Laura was just too great. The fact that she wasn't even Laura – _the fact that Laura was Irina the whole time_ – was even worse. He knew one thing: the steadfast Jack Bristow was going to break, sooner or later. "I… I need you to be… to be strong right now."

He wrapped Sydney in his arms and sobbed. "I need you to be st-strong."

And, although Jack didn't know it… she was.

**1987**

The door slammed. Jack was greeted by the sounds of Cheap Trick blaring from his daughter's room. "Sydney!" he called.

"Hey, Jack," said Maggie Ryan, Sydney's nanny. Jack had hired her back when Laura – no, no, _Irina_ – had died. "She's upstairs."

"Doing _what_, exactly?" he said, taking off his coat and hanging it up.

"Daydreaming, most likely," said Maggie.

This came as somewhat of a surprise to Jack, seeing as Sydney didn't usually have her head in the clouds. At all. When her mother died, Sydney and Jack had secluded themselves from the rest of the world.

And now she was _daydreaming?_ How…out of character.

Jack climbed the stairs, and knocked on his daughter's door.

"Sydney?"

When there was no response, Jack opened the door.

What he saw confused him, stunned him – you name it.

Sydney was staring at the ceiling, spread-eagled on the bed. She was smiling to herself, as if she knew something no one else did. _Dream Police_ by Cheap Trick was blaring from the record player.

Jack walked over to her, staring. "Um…"

"Oh, hi, Dad," said Sydney, followed by a very feminine giggle. "You're home."

_The dream police,_

_They're coming to arrest me…_

"Uh, yes," said Jack. The phone in Sydney's room rang.

She instantly picked it up. "Hello?... oh, hi, Jeremy!" Her voice was almost a squeal, high and excited.

Jack took this as his sign to leave. He closed the door, sighing.

He just would _never_ understand the female mind.

_Every single night,_

_They're driving me insane…_

**1990**

A scream broke the dead silence of the Bristow home.

Jack blinked the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. He figured it was just a dream, but when he heard the shriek again, he knew there was something wrong.

Jack sat up in bed, and ran to where the sound was coming from.

Sydney's room.

She was lying in bed in a fetal position, grabbing her abdomen. Tears were streaming down her face. "Sydney?" said Jack.

Syd looked up to see her father standing next to her bed. Was she really being that loud? "Oh, no. Daddy… I'm sorry for waking you up…" she said, wincing.

"It's fine," said Jack. "Is everything… okay?"

"No!" said Sydney, sobbing. "My side hurts. It's probably just from…" she paused. "you know… _girl stuff_… but it's never been this bad! I feel like I'm going to explode!"

Jack nodded. "It's probably your appendix. Can you sit up?"

Syd shook her head. Jack nodded again. "Okay. Come on," he said, holding out his arms.

Sydney looked at her father's face, and then understood. "No. Dad, I'm fifteen. I'm not as light as I was ten years ago, and…" she trailed off, staring at her father's expression. She could hear her mother in the back of her mind: _Sydney Anne Bristow, stop being so stubborn and just let him carry you!_ She sighed. "Okay. Whatever."

With some difficulty, Jack lifted Sydney into his arms and he cradled her close.

When they got to the hospital, Jack busted through the doors of the ER. "My daughter's side is hurting her," he said to a young nurse working at the front desk. "I think it's her appendix, but I want to be sure…"

"Okay, sir," said the nurse. "I'm going to need you to sign some forms for me –"

Now, Jack was starting to get impatient. "I'll sign them later! She needs to get this thing out of her _now!_"

The nurse was taken aback for a moment. So was Sydney, who had never heard her dad snap like that. Then she said, "Can I get a wheelchair over here?"

A medical resident brought over the chair and Jack put his daughter into it. She didn't let go of his hand until the last second. "I'll be right here," he said to Sydney as the resident took her away.

_Away… away…_

When Jack woke up, it took him a minute to figure out where he was.

Then, he remembered.

He gazed at the unconscious Sydney on the hospital bed beside him, wishing he was back in his dream.

Because that was a time when he could keep her safe.

_Then we're screwed. This is an unfamiliar situation._

_- Jack Bristow_

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**Okay, I know what you're thinking... SO MUCH SCREAMING! Review anyway!**

**P.S. **_**Dream Police **_**belongs to Cheap Trick... WHO I SAW IN CONCERT! YEAH! BEST EVER! **


	5. Getting On With It

**Chapter Five**

When Vaughn went to work the next day, the first thing he saw was his best friend, Eric Weiss.

"Hey, buddy!" Weiss greeted. "What's up?"

Vaughn just looked at Weiss.

"Vaughn, man," Weiss said, patting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "She's my friend too, and I'm just as worried as you are." He looked at Vaughn, who was giving him a stare that clearly said _gimme a break_. Weiss knew Vaughn's feelings for Syd. "Okay, maybe not as worried, but pretty damn close. And listen – don't get pissed at me for saying this – Syd's not going to die just because you're getting on with your life. So let's go kick some bad guy ass."

They proceeded into the giant headquarters, which was bustling with field and desk agents alike.

"Agent Vaughn!" Kendall was running towards Weiss and Vaughn. Kendall and Sydney didn't always get along so well; be that as it may, he was worried about Sydney, but for a different reason than her friends: she was instrumental in the destruction of the Alliance of Twelve.

"How is Agent Bristow?" Kendall asked. Vaughn and Weiss looked at each other. For a few seconds there was an awkward silence. "Well, anyway, there's a briefing in ten minutes. Be there. Oh, and Agent Vaughn," Kendall called. "You're at work now. Get your head in the game." With that, Kendall turned and walked away.

How could Vaughn possibly pay attention, with the woman he loved in mortal danger?

Irina Derevko was sick.

Not physically, but emotionally. If you put the whole "Evil Terrorist Lady" thing aside, she was actually a pretty decent person. Jack married her, didn't he?

Irina had an aching for Sydney. She knew that her daughter was hurting. The fact that Kendall thought it was _her _fault made it that much worse. She wanted to hold her little girl's hand and tell her that everything would be alright.

It would. It always was.

Wasn't it?

Sydney was heartbroken. She was scared, and she wanted someone to make it cease.

So she screamed.

**_Jack:_**_ There are rules, Sydney.  
_**_Sydney:_**_ Then you break them!_

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**Oh my gosh, you guys! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews I've been getting! I love you all! I don't even think I have to ask for any more!**

**P.S. I am working on Chapter Six right now, so it might take a while for me to post it. It took me ALL SUMMER to write this! Also, I might post little ficlets about Syd and Vaughn or Syd and SpyDaddy, but I want you to know that my TOTAL focus is on Agent Down. This is the best story I have EVER written and I am going to remain faithful to it until the very last word!**


	6. Get Well, Syd

**AN: Okay, as promised, Chapter Six! Read on, faithful ALIAS fans!****

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**Chapter Six**

Arvin Sloane sat at his desk in deep thought.

Knowing Jack, he knew that he would be discovered sooner or later; after all, when Jack set his mind to something, he followed through. He knew Jack was looking for the person who had shot Sydney. In any case, he _had_ planted the bug that picked up Jack's vow: "I will find out who did this to you, Sydney, if it's the last thing I do."

Sloane needed to find a way to cover his tracks, to make sure –

His thoughts were interrupted by the ever-bumbling Marshall, who had burst into his boss' office without asking. "Sir, do you have a minute? I mean, if you don't, that's fine, but if you do…"

"Go ahead, Marshall," said Sloane. He kind of felt, well, bad for his employee. For most others, as well. They believed that SD-6 was a division of the CIA, that they were bringing more good into the world and fighting for their country. _Idiots, _Sloane had thought on more than one occasion.

"Um, could you sign this card for Syd? I mean, with her being in the ICU… it's just not the same without her here. She's just so smart, and talented, and cute…" Marshall trailed off, blushing when he realized what he had said. He held out a giant card with GET WELL, SYD scrawled across the front and a Sharpie to his boss. "Just, um, sign wherever…"

Sloane opened the card. About a dozen other staff members at SD-6 had signed it. The biggest signature was that of Marcus Dixon, Sydney's partner. He had written, "Syd, I love you like a sister. Please get well, because we all miss you and it isn't the same here without you. With love from Dixon. (P.S., Diane and all the little Dixons say hi!)"

Sloane stopped for a moment to think, and then wrote down: "Sydney. You are extremely talented. We miss you. Get well. Arvin Sloane."

Vaughn's mind was far away during the briefing. All he could think of was Sydney, and whenever he tried to think of anything else, Sydney popped into his brain. It was driving him bonkers.

All Vaughn heard was "lethal weapon… Alliance... Vaughn and Weiss… Moscow… destroy." It was only when Kendall mentioned Syd's name that Vaughn snapped back into reality.

"As you may well know, Agent Sydney Bristow was compromised at her home a few days ago," he said. "Agent Bristow is an asset to the CIA because of her ties within SD-6, but while she is recovering, I am sure that we will get along just fine without her. Understood? Good." He walked out of the room, unconcerned, and positive that he had made a point to every agent in the room. Especially Vaughn.

The only point he made to Vaughn was "If you don't stop moping around, you're fired."

"Hey, dude," said Weiss, waltzing up to Vaughn with his usual mischievous grin. "I hear they have some pretty sick clubs in Moscow. Wanna hit one? It would take your mind off things… of course, hot Russian chicks don't hurt either…"

"No, thanks. Oh, and while we're on the plane… could you fill me in on what we're supposed to _do_?"

Dixon slammed the door to his house and loosened his tie. His kids, Robin and Steven, ambushed him and tackled him to the ground before he had a chance to set down his briefcase.

Behind him, his wife Diane laughed. "Hey, baby. How was work?"

Dixon pushed Steven off of his back. "Marshall came around with a card to sign for Syd." He sighed.

Diane gave her husband a sad little smile. "Oh, baby. It'll work out. Sydney's gonna be okay, you'll see."

Since Diane knew nothing about Dixon's job inside SD-6, she had not been told the real reason Sydney was in the hospital. Marcus had told her that Sydney had been in a car crash, and that she was in a coma.

Dixon got up from the floor and kissed his wife. "What's for dinner?"

After a hearty meal of lasagna, and after listening to a second-by-second account of his kids' days, Dixon headed down to the U.S. Naval Medical Center to visit Syd. He didn't know what to expect, but he could remember little parts of the previous year when he had been in the same situation.

There were lots of needles, lots of tubes. He kind of remembered the beeping of his heart monitor, but not really. Diane was by his side the whole time, crooning and assuring him that he was gonna be okay. Damn, she was just too great.

When he got to the front desk, Dixon saw a crabby looking woman sipping a cup of coffee and reading a Steven King novel. Charming. "Um, I'm looking for a Sydney Bristow?" he said, timid. This lady creeped him out; him, Marcus Dixon, who had seen bigger and gorier things.

The woman sighed at the prospect of having to sit up and type. Reluctantly, she did, and barked, "Bristow, Sydney A. - gunshot wound, ICU, room 3026."

Dixon cringed. He didn't need – or want – all the details. "Yeah, that's her… thanks."

He got away from the woman as fast as he could, only to be confronted by another, far more intimidating person: Jack Bristow.

Dixon knew that, in all probability, Jack would be there. Syd was his only daughter. When he thought of little ten-year-old Robin in that position – he couldn't. It was too terrifying.

And so, gathering up all his strength, Dixon raised his hand to –

But the sight of a screaming Sydney stopped him cold in his tracks.

_Two years ago, of course I knew you were working for SD-6, I heard you'd been sent to Memphis, Egypt to meet with this jackass. It turned my stomach that you were in this business._

_- Jack Bristow_

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_**I'll admit, I'm slipping a little, so please help me to stay on track because I don't want to disappoint you! Once again, review, please!**


	7. Dear God

**AN: OMG LOOK ANOTHER CHAPTER! Oooh… *has a "moment"* Sorry I took so long guys. I got a serious bout of Writer's Block (oh no! DX) Like always, review, you awesome people. **

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**Chapter Seven**

Jack was watching TV. There has never been a bigger oxymoron. Jack Bristow watching _Seinfeld_? Lunacy. Complete and total insanity. What is even wilder is that he… _liked_ it. He even cracked a fraction of a smile for about a millisecond.

Then, Sydney began to mutter. "No…no…" she said, tossing her head around. Jack turned to his daughter, a bit frightened. He didn't want a repeat of three days ago, when she flatlined. Being her father, he just _knew_, even without Dr. Nicholas telling him, that she couldn't survive another scare like that. Even if she did, she wouldn't come out of it unharmed.

"Sweetheart," Jack said. He gripped his daughter's hand. "Sydney, can you hear me? I love you."

Sydney's face was scared. _She must be having a nightmare, _Jack thought. "It's okay. You're okay, Sydney, you're fine. You're just having a bad dream. I'm here with you." Then, he said something that surprised even him: "Daddy's here."

The last time Jack said something like _that_ was when Sydney was about three months old. But even the long-awaited comfort from her father didn't soothe Sydney now. In fact, she seemed a lot worse. "No!" she said defiantly.

Jack was petrified. Evidently, so was Sydney, because she began to shriek.

Jack poked his head out of the door. "Doctor!" he yelled desperately, completely forgetting the "call" button next to his daughter's bed to be used for emergencies like this.

Dixon was still standing by the door. If he wasn't frightened or worried before, he certainly was now. Sydney, one of the strongest and bravest people he knew, was lying in the Intensive Care Unit, screaming as loud as her lungs would let her, and Jack, an even stronger being, had _I'm scared _written all over his face. Suddenly, Dixon felt as vulnerable as a newborn kitten.

Jack was running back to Sydney, with Dr. Nicholas and a team of nurses in tow. His heart was pounding and for the first time in years, he began to pray.

_Dear God, I know I haven't prayed in a long time, and I'm sorry about that, but I really need your help. My only daughter, Sydney, is in the hospital because somebody attempted to kill her. Her life is becoming a living hell, and so is mine, because I have to watch her suffer and I can't do anything about it. Please save her. She's all I have to live for. Sydney makes me strong. _

As he was praying, Jack realized how true his last statement was. Yes. He was sure that if he lost Sydney, he would lose any illusion of strength or intimidation.

That's all it was, really. An illusion.

As Irina sat pondering her fate, she heard the last voice she had expected to hear – especially considering the circumstances.

"Hello, Irina."

She looked up to see Jack standing outside her cell. He had dark circles under his eyes, and although he had tried to hide it, his face was tearstained.

"Jack… what – "

"I just thought I'd let you know – Sydney went into respiratory distress." Jack forced the words out, sounding like a robot, his voice cold and unfeeling.

"No…" said Irina, tears welling up in her eyes, expecting the worst. "Jack – she's not…?"

"No, but closer to it then before. The doctors intubated her and put her into a medically induced coma."

Irina collapsed onto the cold, steel bench. "Is the damage… will she be the same?"

Jack took a deep breath. "I don't know," he whispered. "And Irina, there's something else… I know that Kendall suspects you of doing this to Sydney, but I don't believe him in the least."

Irina smiled.

Jack smiled back.

_**Katya: ***kisses Jack* That was from Irina. **  
Jack: **Okay. *she kisses him again* ... And who was that from?**  
Katya: ***snickers* You ask too many questions. _


	8. Mission: Hallucination

**Chapter eight**

"Dude. Come on!"

"No."

"We don't have to kick ass for another two hours! Please!"

"No, Eric!"

Weiss and Vaughn were lounging in their Russian hotel room, reviewing the mission one last time. Weiss had still not accepted the fact that Vaughn was not comfortable with going to party with Russian girls.

Before they left for Moscow, Vaughn had visited Syd. He stood and stared at her for a long time. She wasn't the Syd he knew anymore, with all the tubes poking into her arms, and the one down her throat. He couldn't even find anything to say. Jack was right all along.

"People go to clubs at their bachelor parties," said Weiss. "Bachelor. Parties. Definition: the party a guy has right before he gets _married._"

"I'm with Syd, not some slut."

"Holy shit. Are you listening to me at all?" Weiss ranted, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Dude! We're big boys now! Do you remember high school at all? We dated numerous girls at once. Fifty percent of who took off their clothes."

"I'm not going, man," said Vaughn, pounding his friend on the back. "More Russian girls for you, I guess. But I can't go to a strip club consciously while I'm in a relationship."

"You did in high school. You were a beast."

"Well, guess what? That was ten years ago. It's history."

Weiss harrumphed. "Buzzkill," he said under his breath.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," said Vaughn. Weiss threw a pillow at his face.

* * *

"In position, Retreiver," whispered Vaughn into his earpiece.

"Copy that, Boy Scout," replied Weiss from the van. "Do you have a visual?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. Standing by."

Vaughn sipped his whiskey and surveyed the club. Of course, even though he refused to go with Weiss, the mission still ended up being at one. Great.

As he kept an eye out for what's-his-face-bad-guy-of-the-day, Vaughn saw something that caused him to shake his head in disbelief.

Sydney.

She was on the dance floor, plain as day. Like on so many missions before, she was wearing a wig, but the face. It was unmistakably _hers_. She was smiling, moving her body to the constant thump of the music. As she caught Vaughn's eye, she beckoned to him in a "come hither" kind of way.

Vaughn, without thinking, moved towards Sydney. He grabbed her arm, and they started to dance. He looked down for a second. Then back up. And he saw then what he knew all along.

Vaughn stiffened. It wasn't Sydney. _What the hell is happening to me? _he thought.

"What's the matter, babe?" said the woman, in a very, _very _deep voice.

"I'm sorry," said Vaughn pulling away. He ran back to the bar, ready to burst into hot, angry tears.

If it weren't for the bastard who shot Sydney, that could have been a reality.

* * *

"Dude."

"Hm?"

Weiss waved his hand in front of the zoned out Vaughn. "You with me, bro?"

Vaughn snapped out of it. "Yeah… I guess."

"'You guess'? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Vaughn shrugged.

Weiss rolled his eyes. "Mike, buddy. How much whiskey did you have, exactly?"

Vaughn glared. "It has nothing to do with that," he said through clenched teeth.

"Well, then what?"

"Okay," said Vaughn, bracing himself to tell the truth about his… experience. "I, uh… I thought I saw Syd at the club."

Weiss stared at him.

Vaughn sighed. "That never leaves this cargo plane, alright?"

"But –"

"_Eric. _I'm serious."

Weiss grudgingly nodded. "Let's look at the bright side. The mission was a success, at least. We don't have to face the Wrath of Kendall."

Vaughn snickered. Then his pocket began to buzz.

He picked up his phone. "Yeah."

"Agent Vaughn."

Vaughn was startled by Jack's voice. "Jack! Uh… what's up?"

"Sydney's awake."

_**Jack:**_ _I used to think you didn't have much of a spine.  
**Vaughn:** And has that assesment changed?  
**Jack:** No. *smiles ever so slightly*_

**How's that for a cliffhanger? Heehee, I'm evil. So I hope you liked it. And I hope you review. Cuz you are all awesome people. XD**


	9. Waking

**AN: Okie dokie! Chapter Nine! Wow, this is going by fast for me... anyway, I don't want to annoy you but PLEASE PLEASE PLLEEAASSEE review! It really helps fuel mah brain!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

When Sydney opened her eyes for the first time, she was struck with a sense of amnesia. Where was she? Why was she there? And how long was she gone? Her last memory was kissing Vaughn goodnight as she left the Rotunda. How many days ago had that been?

Sydney looked around. The room was blindingly white, with a very bright light on the ceiling. There was a flower pot on the windowpane, and a table next to the bed. By which also was an IV pole.

Then, she came to a sick realization. _Am I… in the hospital?_

She looked down at her arms. Needles were poking into both, and in her throat was a scratchy tube, hooked up to a ventilator.

And next to her bed was the last person she expected to see. Her father was sleeping in a chair next to her. Jack looked like crap. He had dark circles under his eyes, and Sydney thought she saw the shadow of a grief beard working its way onto his face.

A tear ran down Syd's cheek. She hadn't ever seen Jack like this, and it was hard to believe that it was her doing.

Jack moved and blinked his eyes open. Slowly he sat up. Sydney was staring right at him.

"Sydney! You're alright, sweetheart," he said, working his way around the tubes to hug his daughter gingerly. "It's okay. You're okay. You scared the hell out of me, Sydney. You scared the hell out of all of us."

Sydney lay there dumbfounded. Had she woken up in a parallel universe, where Jack just gave out hugs on impulse? Where he was worried, and showed it?

Jack pulled away and just stared at his daughter. The sight of her awake and alert had never been so welcoming to him.

With perfect timing, Dr. Nicholas came into the room on his rounds. "Look what we have here!" he said.

Jack beamed.

"It's always nice to see a patient awake and alert," said the doctor. He proceeded to examine Sydney with a gentle touch.

"… How is she?" said Jack.

Sydney wished they would stop talking about her like she wasn't sitting right there.

"Stabilized," Dr. Nicholas said. "We can take the tube out of her throat, but we have to keep her on oxygen."

Jack nodded.

Dr. Nicholas slapped on a pair of rubber gloves. "Okay," he said. "I need you to relax your throat for me, alright?"

Syd obliged, still wondering what the hell she was doing there. Slowly, the plastic blue tube was inching its way out of her throat. "There we go," said Dr. Nicholas, pulling the last of it out. It was quickly replaced by a nasal oxygen tube. Sydney rubbed her neck and winced. "I'll leave you two alone," said the doctor, backing out of the room. He sensed a private moment coming on between the two. There always were, at times like these.

"Sydney?" said Jack.

"My…" Sydney began, the first words she would speak in four days. "My throat… _kills_."

Jack laughed nervously. "I know, sweetheart," he said, embracing her. "I know."

"Dad…" Sydney said, in a hoarse voice.

"Yes?"

"What… happened?"

Jack sighed. It was the question he had been dreading. "Sydney…"

"Please… just… tell me. Even if it… hurts."

_It will_, thought Jack. "You were shot. Somebody got into your apartment, and they…" he said, trailing off, leaving it up to his daughter to decipher.

Sydney's eyes widened, welling up with tears. "What? But… why?

"Shhh," said Jack. "You're okay now. That's all that matters."

Syd gulped back the need to cry. "How… how bad?"

"Pretty bad," said Jack, keeping his answers brief.

"How long?"

"Four days."

"Oh," said Sydney, softly.

"Sydney – "

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Sydney rasped, tears creeping back up into her eyes despite her efforts to keep them away. "I'm so sorry."

Jack wrapped her into his arms for the third time. "Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing you have to be sorry for."

Syd buried her face in her dad's shoulder.

"I'll take care of it," Jack said, comforting her. "Don't you worry."

**_Will:_**_ Sodium pentothal. Like a truth serum. They're going to give me that?  
_**_Jack:_**_ I would.  
_**_Will:_**_ Great._


	10. Dream Interpretation

**Chapter Ten**

Irina shuffled through the ICU, anticipation coursing through her. She was going to see Sydney.

How Jack had pulled it off, she really didn't know. Talking to Kendall about her was like trying to talk to a brick wall. But Jack did have many persuasion powers to his credit. Marrying him to get close to the CIA was hardly a chore to Irina. And out of their decade together, Irina had been given the greatest gift. Even though she didn't deserve it.

The US Marshal beside her halted. "3026… this is it."

Irina nodded.

"You know the agreement. No funny business or you'll be in solitary confinement before you can say _terroristicheskih zagovorov_."

_Terrorist conspiracy, _thought Irina. _Very funny. _"Thank you for the warning, but whether or not you can speak my native language is irrelevant," she said, tilting her head in the maddening way which was her specialty. She turned the door handle, leaving the Marshal to his thoughts.

Sydney was sitting up on the bed – well, kind of, as it was elevated in the back. She was pale, and looked weak, but quite well for someone who was in a medically induced coma the day before. She was talking to Jack about God-knows-what, but it looked illuminating.

Irina couldn't bring herself to speak. She couldn't interrupt this exceedingly rare moment between father and daughter.

"…but Dad - "

"It was just a dream, Sydney. Vaughn is perfectly safe."

"Dad, there's more."

Jack clenched his eyebrows, concerned.

"A... woman… stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing a mask, so naturally, I asked for her identity," Sydney began.

"Yes," Jack said. "Go on."

"She pulled it off…" she said, choking. "And it was… _me._" She swallowed back tears, knowing that she had to be strong for her own sake. Not let anyone know how her heart was aching.

Jack looked slightly taken aback. The little crease between his eyes that he got when he was thinking hard about something had returned. Irina smiled – it was one of the things she had fallen in love with.

"Sydney, listen to me," he said. "We'll do everything we can to protect Vaughn, but I doubt it will be necessary."

"It won't," Irina blurted out.

Sydney turned. An expression of disbelief stretched across her face. Jack sat back, half-smiling, convinced his work was done.

"You can't do anything," she continued. "Not when the person posing the most danger to the man you love is yourself."

Sydney was completely speechless; the words _what the hell_ sped through her mind over and over again.

Irina crossed the room in one second – maybe less. And when she got to Sydney, she wrapped her in her arms tightly. For one fleeting moment, she was Laura Bristow, the UCLA English professor, and not Irina Derevko, the KGB terrorist on the FBI Most Wanted list. She was a mother, just a mother, and she was back with her daughter, holding her like every other mother would. Everything was all right.

Over Sydney's shoulder, Irina mouthed "Thank you" to Jack.

He nodded. Jack had nearly forgotten that, although evil, Irina did have a soft side. Very subtle, but soft nonetheless. And it was beginning to show.

Sydney didn't want to cry, but somehow it ended up happening. It was just… _the moment, _she concluded, _and the fact that we're having physical contact without some weirdo stalking in and ruining it._ She pulled away. "How?" she whispered.

Irina looked pointedly at Jack. "Ask your father."

Sydney smiled through her tears. There were no words to describe how she felt right then. So she didn't say anything.

A knock on the door broke the silence. Jack was about to get up when Vaughn burst in. He said nothing, but ran to Sydney's bedside and kissed her tenderly and lovingly.

Sydney was shocked at first, but then gave in, happy to see him, but worried to be around him. "Vaughn," she whispered softly, when she got a break.

"Shh," Vaughn said, "don't say anything. I want to remember how I feel right now for the rest of my life."

"Vaughn – "

"Sydney, you're alive. You're alive and you're going to be okay and I love you, Sydney Bristow – "

"Michael." Sydney's tone was harsh this time. "We… I… I can't do this."

Jack and Irina traded glances and stepped outside, leaving their daughter to her heartbreak.

Vaughn stopped and pulled away. "What do you mean?" he said, laughing nervously.

"I mean _this_." Sydney kissed him again; partly to show him, partly because she didn't want to let him go.

Vaughn frowned. "I don't understand."

Syd sighed, tears threatening to fall again. "It's too dangerous."

"If you're talking about the fact that CIA agents can't be together," Vaughn snapped, "that is a load of _shit_. I could care less if Kendall approves of our relationship."

"That is – not what I'm talking about at all," Sydney said, not wanting to get worked up and angry. She could be heartbroken, she could fight – but she would _not _die in the process.

Vaughn backed up and started pacing. "Then tell me what you _are _talking about!"

Sydney took a breath. "If SD-6 sees me with you… I don't want it to be you in this bed next!" she said, finally losing it.

Vaughn stopped. "I thought you cared more about us than to let what we do get in the way," he said calmly, despite the anger and sadness burning inside of him. "I guess… I guess I was wrong."

So saying, he walked out and slammed the door.

Sydney burst into tears.

**_ Jack: _**_Michael Vaughn is just a boy who was _never _good enough for you. _

* * *

**Teehee. **

**This was one fun chapter to write, I'm telling you. Seriously. Didja like the unexpected twist?**

**Didja?**

**Didja?**

**I hope you did. And to all of you who didn't get bored with waiting and are still interested in this story, this especially fun chapter is dedicated to you. **


	11. Egg Rolls can fix Anything

**AN: Haiz. Just a warning - I use the F-word twice. So don't be alarmed. Don'tcha just LOVE the F-word? **

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

"Guess who!"

Sydney looked up and smiled for the first time in two days. "Weiss!"

The two friends hugged; something easier to do now, because Sydney's oxygen was completely gone and there were only two IVs. She was moved to the "rehabilitation" floor yesterday, the day after the dispute with Vaughn.

Jack looked at Weiss skeptically. "Agent Weiss," he said.

"Jack! How goes it?" said Weiss, holding out a hand in a give-me-five gesture.

Jack stared.

"Okay then," Weiss said, passing off the awkward moment. He turned back to Syd. "I brought Chinese food."

Sydney smiled wider. "Jade Princess?"

"Ding-ding-ding," said Weiss, unloading some of the paper bags he had brought. "You like the chicken lo mein, right?"

"Yeah," Sydney said, grabbing a takeout box. "I think this goes without saying, but I love food. Especially when I'm not getting it through a tube."

Weiss rolled his eyes and tossed her an egg roll.

"Why are you here, anyway?" said Sydney, opening her chopsticks.

"Gee, thanks," Weiss said. "I'm glad to see you too."

"You know what I mean."

Weiss sighed. "I'm on a mission."

Sydney stopped. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, until she spoke: "Eric, I know – "

"No you don't, Syd. Mike is lost without you."

Jack stared. Again.

Sydney's eyes started to fill with tears. "Really?" she said.

"Yes, really. He didn't come to work yesterday. He's hung over pretty bad, and in some deep, _deep _shit with Kendall."

"Eric –"

"He told me everything. Syd, he loves you. A lot," Weiss said, "more than he should. Please, at least call the guy."

Sydney didn't say anything, but stared out into space. A tear fell.

"Aw, shit," Weiss said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry, but the motherfucker really needs you."

Sydney's mouth opened, but no when she tried to talk, no words came out. She tried again. "Dad," she choked, "when do I get out of here?"

"Two, three days," Jack answered, eyebrow raised.

"Wrong," Syd said. "Today."

* * *

In one swift motion, Vaughn downed his twenty-first – no, twenty-second – round of Jack Daniels. It was burning down his throat, and he felt like he was going to barf it all up in about two seconds.

He was in some trashy bar in downtown LA, he couldn't remember the name of it- hell, he couldn't remember shit. He remembered Sydney though.

He remembered how madly in love he was with her.

He remembered how willing she was to throw it all away.

_Forget her, dude, _said a voice in the back of his mind. _There's only gonna be heartbreak if you don't. _

_Well, what do you think this is? _said another one. _A motherfucking happy dance? _

"Hey. You done?"

Vaughn looked up. There was a curious bartender staring at him.

Hesitating for a moment, Vaughn answered: "Yeah. I'm done."

Vaughn stumbled out to his car and groped with his keys. "Damnit all," he said, trying to find the right one to open his car door.

This battle continued until Vaughn heard a voice behind him, making him sure that he was piss drunk:

"Need any help, Vaughn?"

Vaughn turned around the instant that sweet, sweet sound reached his ears.

"Sydney?"

* * *

"Wheels up in three hours. Any questions?"

Back at SD-6, a briefing was in full swing. Sloane was speaking to an audience that may as well have been deaf. One thought simultaneously ran through the minds of both Marshall and Dixon: _Without Sydney?_

"Yes, sir," Dixon said, bravely. "Any updates on Sydney's condition?" He had been afraid to return to the hospital after what he witnessed the first time, so he didn't know anything about how she was doing.

"Actually, yes," said Sloane. "She woke up three days ago and was moved down the rehabilitation floor yesterday." _Damnit._

"That's our girl!" said Marshall. "I knew she'd be okay!"

Dixon's face lit up. "Really? She's awake?"

"That's what I said," Sloane snapped. He stalked off into his office with no explanation, and angrily collapsed into his desk chair. No sooner had he done this than his phone began to ring. "What?" he spat.

"I know you did this, you cold hearted bastard."

**_Vaughn:_**_ I don't know that many people who killed the woman they were married to; I was just wondering if that's what happens.  
_**_Jack:_**_ It did. Now it doesn't._


	12. An Escapee and Her Dad's Anger Issues

**AN: Here I am, back from the dead. It was scary, man. All those dead things... and, and spiderwebs... *shudder***

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

"Sydney? What are you doing out of the hospital?" said Vaughn, his speech slightly slurred.

Sydney had changed from the hospital gown to some street clothes. They were slightly baggy because of the weight she still had to gain, but other than that, her figure looked like an angel's to Vaughn. "I escaped," she said passively, with a tiny shrug. She winced.

"When your father finds out – " Vaughn began, but he was cut off.

"My father doesn't matter right now. We need to talk," said Sydney.

The anger Vaughn felt, numbed by the whiskey, reared up inside his chest again. "Haven't we talked enough?" he barked. "Isn't that why we're here?"

Sydney sighed. "Michael, you're drunk. Give me the keys, I'll take you home." She held out her hand.

"How do you expect to drive?" said Vaughn stubbornly, sliding the keys into Sydney's hand. In the slight instant they touched, he felt a surge of electricity go up his arm. He missed her so much.

"I'll manage," said Sydney, opening the door and climbing into the car, wincing slightly and putting a hand to the wound on her side. Vaughn went around to the passenger side, grumbling.

Sydney started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

_Beep beep. Beep beep. _

_ Sydney groggily reached over and hit the 'Snooze' button on her alarm clock. Surely, the world would go on if she was a few minutes late for work. She closed her eyes and tried to get back into her dream. It was a nice dream. Something about Vaughn…_

_The alarm clock rang again. This time, Sydney sat up and turned it off. She stayed there a minute before standing and wandering off toward the bathroom._

_Sydney turned on the light and there was a man standing there with a face she knew, a face she shouldn't have been shocked to see, but was…_

_She sat up with a start in the hospital bed, covered in cold sweat. Sydney put her hand to her chest, in an attempt to steady her heavy breathing. Jack woke up in the chair beside her, startled. "Sydney? Are you alright?" he said urgently. _

_"Dad…" Sydney began. "It was Sloane."_

* * *

"So, you're telling me you did this because of a dream."

Sydney sighed. "Yes, but-"

"No. Nononono," Vaughn interrupted. "This is crazy. Syd, why?"

"If you knew how real it was-"

"_But I don't_," Vaughn snapped. Sydney fell silent. "You're so smart… why would you bother to rely on something that's not even real to make decisions for you?"

Vaughn leaned back on the couch in his living room, slightly more sober but still a little disoriented. He felt his head begin to throb. "Vaughn," said Sydney, after a few moment's silence in which she was sure she would get a chance to talk, "I did what I did because I love you. I saw what happened to Danny – _I know he was a civilian, but that's not the point_ – and I saw what happened to my parents. Do you think I was going to let that happen to us?" A lump grew in her throat. "I've known betrayal, and it sucks. I've known heartbreak and that sucks too. I'm sorry if that's what I made you feel by trying to prevent it from happening."

Vaughn was speechless. There was absolutely nothing left for him to say. They sat that way for a few moments, in appreciated silence. "Sydney…" Vaughn muttered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought it was best," she answered. "Apparently I was wrong."

Vaughn scoffed.

"That doesn't matter, though. If it weren't for that dream…"

"If it weren't for that dream, you would have woken up a hell of a lot sooner," said Vaughn. "It's not fair. I messed everything up… I almost killed you."

"No," said Sydney. "You saved me."

* * *

"Excuse me?" said Sloane. "Who is this?"

"You shot my daughter. You – hurt – Sydney."

"Jack?" Sloane whispered in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know why I didn't suspect you in the first place… maybe I thought it was too obvious," said Jack coolly. "All the same, Arvin, you'll pay. Make no mistake, you will pay for this."

Sloane took a long pause. "Meet me in the parking garage in exactly five minutes," he commanded, and hung up.

Just another problem he needed to take care of. Because, no matter what fantasy Jack had in his mind of that cold-blooded murderer revenge, Sloane would come out on top.

He always did.

Jack waited impatiently for the sound of Arvin's footsteps, but nothing came. What a jerk - he orders Jack to show up promptly without doing Jack that same courtesy. Just another factor working in Jack's favor.

Arvin Sloane would die today.

The pistol and bulletproof vest were dead weights against Jack's chest, waiting to be of use at a moment's notice. No voice of reason tore at his conscience; he didn't have one anymore. Now he had instincts. In his opinion, they were much better. Not as much guilt.

"Jack," said a voice from behind him. "Of all reasons to get together, this wasn't my top choice."

Jack whipped around. There stood Sloane, a cold smile on his face. Jack wanted to tear him apart - but there would be plenty of time for that later. Now, he nodded. "The human mind is a wonderful thing, Arvin."

Sloane looked confused. "How do you mean?"

"I mean, with everything Sydney's been through in the past few days, nobody would expect her to remember every detail of what happened. But last night, in her subconscious, she remembered it all - what room she was in when she was shot, what time it happened... and the face of the perpetrator," said Jack almost triumphantly. He had the upper hand here, and there was no way Sloane would win this time.

"Really?" said Sloane, a look of mock surprise adorning his face. "And whose face did she see in this incredibly lucid and prophetic dream?"

"Yours."

Sloane laughed, the sound as cold and sharp as ice. "I wouldn't expect anything else from somebody who is, after all, half you. Sydney is every bit as inquisitive as her father."

"Don't change the subject," Jack growled. "Why, Arvin? She has done nothing to deserve this. I would think you would tread lightly around somebody whose fiancee you murdered."

"Oh," said Sloane, "that's where you're wrong. On the contrary, Jack; your daughter has done everything to deserve what I gave her. You should be thanking me - I was rather merciful. After all, I could have killed her outright and have it over with."

That comment shot straight to Jack's heart, setting it aflame. _Merciful? _He thought it was _merciful _to let Sydney suffer the way she did, and leave a helpless Jack to watch it all unfold before his eyes? If that was Sloane's definition of merciful, Jack wanted to hear his definition of compassion.

Jack couldn't help himself anymore. In one quick, fluid movement, Jack's pistol was in his hands, ready to fire. "Unfortunately for you, Arvin, the word 'mercy' isn't in my vocabulary."

Sloane laughed again. "Did you really think I'd come here without protection? I'm afraid you're in the crossfire of two snipers. But I believe I can answer your question as to why I did what I did."

"Do tell," Jack barked.

"I know your loyalties don't lie with the Alliance, Jack, and I know Sydney's don't either."

_**Jack:** I'm going to bury you._

* * *

**I am so evil! Teeheeeheeeeeeeeee... I enjoy torturing you immensely. I learned some tactics when I was dead... severely evil tactics... MWAHAHAAA**

**And I know this chapter looks really short but on my computer it's like five pages long. TAKE THAT, EVIL WRITING TROLL!**


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